


Two Makes One

by pherryt



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, First Kisses, M/M, Soulmates, Strong Language, mckirk - Freeform, mild depression, soul marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 18:57:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7769296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pherryt/pseuds/pherryt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soul Mates are rare, so rare that even having heard the stories about them as a child when most others didn't even know the stories ever existed, Leonard McCoy completely forgot about them.</p>
<p>Decades later, and he's forgotten the signs, doesn't understand whats happening until it's too late. He's fallen too deep for one Captain James T. Kirk. </p>
<p>That should make him happy right? Problem is, Leonard doesn't believe he deserves this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Makes One

**Author's Note:**

> So, I recently created a new tumblr blog ( pherryt ) to concentrate on my writing, others writings, tips and musings etc. (feel free to follow me :D )
> 
> And to start it off with a bang, I'm using that blog to participate in a Fanfiction Appreciation Challenge. I've queued up almost the entire week already...but one of the days encourages you to write your own drabble.
> 
> so apparently, a drabble is under 10k. And a long fic is over 10k. i always thought a drabble was even less and that a long fic would start at 50k and up. Of course, that left me high and dry for a term for anything in between, but I just figured I was so new at all this, that I didn't know yet what it was. *shrugs* I dunno...
> 
> Since I picked a Soulmate drabble to promote that day, I let it be my prompt to write my own. And since I'm currently wrapped up in two SPN stories, I wanted to try my hand at a different universe. I never knew I shipped Kirk/McCoy until a story I read here called Switch. Now it just FEELS right. (go on, you should read it :D I'll be rec'ing it later this week too)
> 
> So...here we go!  
> Please let me know what you think?

The first time Leonard noticed it, was on his wedding day. A tingle in his fingertips, in itch in his feet, the feeling that he was supposed to be elsewhere. And not just anywhere but here, but a specific elsewhere. If only he could figure out where that was. The feeling faded some as he rubbed at the inside of his left wrist and he attributed it to pre wedding jitters. That was a common thing, right?

He and Jocelyn said "I do.", and thus started the short, mostly hellish few years of his life. He still wasn't sure how he'd made it out of Residency alive. Or not arrested. They should never have gotten married. The feeling of " _Go, go, go_ " continued to plague him throughout the marriage and Jocelyn came to believe that he was never fully invested.

Things went sour after that. She accused him of cheating on her whenever he spent long hours at the hospital. She'd taken to bugging his things and then getting upset when he found them and confronted her about it. She was convinced that his desire to not be bugged meant he was hiding something rather than believe his protests that it violated patient confidentiality.

The only thing he was hiding was how depressed he was becoming, throwing himself into his work to give himself a feeling of self worth, however brief. Occasionally, he'd rub at his inner left wrist. Always the left wrist. It wasn't like it hurt, but it held this almost unbearable ache. It happened often enough for him to be concerned that it meant something. Maybe he'd contracted some deadly space plague that could have come from any of the millions of alien species now living on or visiting the Earth.

Not that he blamed them, but it would be the McCoy luck. So he fretted and he ran tests and came up with…absolutely nothing. He wasn't allergic to anything. His tests for everything he possibly could test for came up as negative.

He even ran the absurd stuff, like the Polexyian Pox, which was only transmittable from Polexyians to Polar Bears – who knew how that would even work. And not that it had ever actually happened, of course, but these were the sorts of things you found out when you ran every test under the sun when introducing two civilizations for the first time.

He would not have been in the least surprised to find out he'd contracted something that was supposedly 100% risk free. He was a McCoy after all. But the urge to rub at his wrists would fade and he'd throw himself into his work once more, forgetting all about it.

Till the next time it happened. Till the days he'd find his feet working under their own volition to go somewhere he hadn't planned on. He'd have to force himself to stop and turn around, and this always seemed to happen when his wrist was flaring up, that same old odd restlessness coming to roost. He presumed it was his tendency to want to pace when confronted with an intellectual conundrum. And that ache in his wrists was definitely one such. So he ran tests, waited for the surprise, the odd disease come to take another McCoy. All the while, his marriage coming down around his ears despite his denials.

Still, the day he came home to find the codes to their living space changed and a note – and actual, honest to god, paper _note -_ tacked to the door had come as both a relief and as surprise. He hadn't quite expected the _terms_ of the divorce, however. Then again, he should have known. Jocelyn had a tendency to be petty and she knew how much he didn't like the idea of going out into space which, if he were to comply with the court ordered demands, would be required of him.

So, fuck it.

He signed up for Starfleet, as if that would show her. And then had to use alcohol just to gain the courage to walk onto the damn shuttle. If it hadn't been for the only other obviously out of place man sitting next to him, who had apparently not been having much of an easy time of it either, he thinks he would have possibly passed out.

And wouldn't _that_ have been fucking embarrassing?

Thankfully, most of his Starfleet Academy experience happened on planet, and even his divorce and Jocelyn's ridiculous and petty demands meant to humiliate him couldn't prevent him from doing his mandated duties.

Starfleet overrode the courts with dispensation for one Leonard H. McCoy, MD, to make use of the primary Academy of Starfleet and any of the Starfleet Affiliated facilities, so long as it was in the course and pursuit of his duties. Stating that the enforcement of what amounted to a planet wide restraining order was an obstruction. As long as Leonard left her alone, and he sure as hell wanted nothing more to do with her, they saw no reason to hobble an asset such as him.

It was during his first year at the academy, as he and Jim revolved around each other, becoming closer and closer, that he noticed the strange marks on his wrists. It started with the left wrist and, in the second year – which was coincidentally the year Leonard had realized he'd fallen in love with the brash troublemaker - had actually spread to the right.

His panic thus returned, he made use of the excellent facilities of Starfleet and once again ran every possible test he could imagine. Several times over. Then picked the brains of some of the most brilliant off world physicians to come up with a few more.

Still nothing. The marks would stay a few days and then fade away again. The tingling returned to his fingers, the itch in his feet had, however, calmed. The symptoms made no sense. Some worsened, some lessened. They came and went and he could not, with all his vaunted medical skills, determine a pattern to them. And they were too simple, too common, for his paranoid ass to ignore, sending him into a panic every time.

But he still didn't make the connection, hadn't figured out what all of it actually meant, until the conference after their first real mission, when Spock made an observation that Leonard had not expected, backed up by Uhura. Followed by questions of a nature that he really wished they hadn't thought to ask. And really hoped would not be overheard by anyone such as, oh, say, the Captain.

The room was crowded, a mix of red and grey uniforms, dotted with the occasional vibrant color of an Orion or an Andorian or another, similarly hued being. It was noisy, and prying. Hot and uncomfortable. And then Spock just had to speak.

"Dr. McCoy, are you all right?"

"Of course I'm not all right. I'm stuck at a damn cocktail hour, chokin' to death in this god damn dress uniform and playin' nice with officers who don't really give two shits about me as a person, just what I can do for them as a 'Hero to the Federation'." He finger quoted his sarcasm; just to be sure Spock would catch on.

"It is just that, for some time now, I have found both you and the Captain to give an increasing amount of attention to your wrists. I would inquire if that was normal for two human mates, but Nyota assures me it is not."

McCoy's face paled, the word mates echoing in his ears, the knowledge that all this time, Jim had been having the same symptoms. It couldn't be…the stories his gram once told him could not possibly be true. He shot a look at the pretty Lieutenant and back to the First Officer. He shook his head. "No, no, no…not possible."

"What isn't possible Doctor?"

"Does Jim have any uh…marks on his wrists?" McCoy tried to ask, as if completely unconcerned. How could he have not noticed this? Had he been so preoccupied with hiding his own crush on the man, that he had missed some of the most important clues? A passing tray hovered near his elbow and he shot a hand out to grab the glass of alcohol. _Probably some synthetic wine or champagne_ , he thought disparagingly. He was going to need something a little stronger for this, if Spock insisted on continuing this discussion.

"Indeed he does. I had assumed they were tattoos of the Earth custom for decorating one's body in an act of rebellion…" the Doctor snorted as he lifted the glass to his lips. That would be Jim all right, except that strangely, he'd never done so. And McCoy, as his doctor, would know. "But for the fact that they don't always appear to be there, which is highly unusual. This is not a human trait that I am aware of. But I have noticed the same marks on your own wrist, with similar behavior. What, exactly, is their significance, Doctor?"

Leonard gulped down the drink in his hands and placed the empty glass on another hovering tray, only noticing then that his hands were shaking. That’s when Uhura reached forward and took his hands in his, the warmth comforting as she turned his wrists over and pushed slightly at the cuffs to more clearly see the marks.

They were almost tribal, he thought. He'd researched the designs on his wrists as soon as he realized that they always appeared the same, always looked like a _design_ and not a random pattern. Part of it looked like a stylized Sun, surrounded by curling waves, the colors shifting in blues and golds and blacks. It was unusual, as Spock had said.

"I've heard stories." Nyota spoke softly, as if trying not to spook him. "Legends. They go far back in Earth History. Most people don't know these stories anymore. They didn't believe them, or they simply got lost to time. But my family has kept certain traditions and stories alive. These…remind me of some of those stories. Do you know what I'm talking about?"

He tried to avoid her eyes, tried to pull back from her comforting warmth. Instead he met Spocks' confused ones, that single brow raised in question and curiosity. And Leonard knew that his knowledge seeking mind wouldn't rest till he knew what Uhura was referencing.

He quickly looked around, to see if anyone had noticed them. To make sure Jim was nowhere near, before he turned and shouldered his way through the crowd to leave the stuffy and suddenly very stifling room. With barely a glance at each other, the couple followed him.

When he finally found a nook, quiet and far from the party, he stopped and stared out the huge glass like window over the Bay. He jumped when he felt her hand on his arm, felt the silent presence of the Vulcan at his back.

"Your stories are true, Lieutenant. Though I'd plain forgotten about them. I had forgotten what they meant, what their significance was. That they even existed. I never really believed them, y'know. And the few times I entertained the thought, I was certain it would never be me, of all people. Like I deserve something like that."

"Why would you think that, Dr. McCoy?" Uhura said in shock, coming around to where she could see his face, his eyes closed as he pressed a hand against the window. Spock remained silent, waiting patiently for someone to explain to him what was going on.

"I'm poison, darlin'. I killed my own father." He heard her gasp at the words. He kept his eyes closed, not wanting to see the pity or horror on her face. "I could have saved him, and I killed him. I turned my own marriage into a living hell. Jocelyn was right to divorce me before things got worse. Got out while she still could. I would ruin him – " His voice broke and he stopped, unwilling to go further, to admit his epiphany and the strength the feelings he'd gotten used to hiding.

The grip on his arm tightened as she pulled him around, stronger than she looked, or maybe he was just unwilling to fight her. His eyes remained closed, his dark head bowed uncharacteristically. It was disconcerting for her to see the tall, strong and stubborn Doctor behaving like this, pulled in on himself.

"Don't you think that. I don't know what happened with your father, but I know _you_ , Leonard. Spock and I, we _both_ know you and you are a compassionate man. I'm sure there was a reason. As for your wife, that wasn't either of your faults. If you have a soul mate, and one you could actually find, then that was never going to work out for either of you. All the stories say so. The bond would work against it, to make sure that you were free of other commitments when you met your other half. Don't you see?"

He shook his head and pulled in a breath, forcing his eyes open, forcing himself to look up at her with a pained expression. "Bond or not, that doesn't excuse the things I have done. Doesn't mean I deserve to...have…" he pulled in another breath, harsh and broken.

"What are these stories that you speak of?" Spock had remained quiet for so long that Leonard had actually forgotten about his presence. He covered his face with the hand that was free of Uhura's touch and turned away again, swallowing hard.

Spock took in the reaction, not sure what to make of it. Being around humans was so difficult, despite the things he had learned from his mother during his childhood, even despite the things Nyota was teaching now. But he felt sure a distraction, however temporary, would help the good Doctor to recover some of his composure, though maybe not his peace of mind. And at least if he could finally understand what was going on, he could actually weigh in on the subject.  
  
Leonard listened to the beautiful communications officer give Spock a quick summary of the stories, of the history, in her beautiful voice. The words almost music, sort of soothing. He didn't interrupt as he listened, as he waited for the Vulcan's reaction to such absurdity. Maybe the two of them could have an argument about the validity of Uhura's words. It would help Leonard maintain and improve his currently fragile balance.

He heard her murmur the words of Soul mates and Bonds and the matching marks. Heard her explain how rare they were, how they only ever seemed to happen at times of great significance. During periods of great change.

"The stories say, the soul mark appears on the wrists of the beloved and will match those of their intended. That the marks appear slowly, until they become permanently etched into the skins of both partners, to proudly proclaim the match to all. Though the permanency won't happen till the bond is…acknowledged by both parties. The marks appear, well no one knows how, but there is not one soul mate bond in any of the stories that were left unfulfilled unless the bond was deliberately ignored. Which never ends well for either of the bond mates." Nyota stared at the Doctor as he now stared unseeingly out the window, their reflections caught against it. She couldn't tell if he was even listening, but she continued on.

"Somehow, against all odds, the pair are always nearby. Close enough to meet and they do. The marks begin to appear the closer they get to each other or if something threatens the bond. Whichever comes first. When it's the latter, it's supposed to be taken as a warning to be heeded, but when the stories are lost and a soul mate hasn't appeared publicly in centuries, the signs are forgotten, belief dries up…"

She looked at him with such a sad look that McCoy could see it even in the glass. Spocks' attention was fully focused on her, and her words and he felt some relief from not having that piercing stare leveled at him. Though whenever the Vulcan turned that look on his girlfriend, it was much softer, tinged with great respect and love. He closed his eyes again against the look on her face and tried to ignore the words she continued to say.

"When it’s the former, there are supposed to be other signs, a compass of sorts to aid you in finding your other half. Oh, Leonard, didn't you ever feel them?" He gave a cock-eyed half shrug but his mouth remained closed. "It would have been a pull, to leave, to move, to go elsewhere. The pull would have guided you along the bond till you met, guaranteeing that you met, and when you did, the pull, the itch in your feet is said to disappear, even as the other signs increase due to proximity. Did you really not know?"

"No." He croaked. "I forgot the stories. Didn't believe them when I heard them. I'm a doctor, dammit, not a fairytale character. All those things could have been symptoms of a greater disease. I felt them all and…I did not recognize them for what they were."

"You are the soul mate of the Captain?" Spock had puzzled through the information and the words spoken, including his own. Including the question he had himself asked that started this whole downward spiral into Leonard's self loathing. He gave a harsh, choked laugh.

" 'pears so." He drawled, his words tinged in despair.

"Then I do not understand the problem. If you and the Captain are soul mates, which does appear to be true, then all you have to do is tell him, acknowledge and complete the bond."

"It's not that simple, Spock." The words came out a little harsher, a little louder than before.

"How is it not? Do you not love him, as I love Nyota? Would you not die for him, protect him? Is it not already meant to be?"

McCoy growled and whirled on the pair, barely able to focus on the two in front of him as he shook with emotion. Uhura's hand finally shook loose from his arm with his actions and she stepped back in surprise at his sudden movement.

"Goddammit Spock. Just leave it alone! You green blooded…" Closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, resting one elbow in his other hand, he drew in a deep breath and then another to calm himself. He had no right to take out his personal problems on the pair before him, when they only sought to help. Sarcastic remarks were one thing, a shield, a way to deal with the things that overwhelmed him, but this was a step too far.

"Just…" he sighed, "It doesn't matter that I love him. It doesn't even matter that I would do anything, _have_ done in fact, including risking my own career, for _him_. I've signed up willingly for that fucking five year mission just because _he_ asked me to, when it terrifies the shit outta me, when I could have accepted a cushy job on the safety of another planet so easily. But it doesn't matter, none of that does, because I already done told you that I'm poison. And I'm not draggin' that boy down if I can help it."

"Oh, Leonard," Uhura said softly.

A hand wrapped around his right wrist, the one attached to the one currently covering his face. Strong fingers circled gently and tugged his hand down and away, his face – eyes still closed, his lips pressed tightly together – revealed. More fingers, just as strong, calloused, just as gently pushed the fabric of his uniform sleeve up to reveal the marks he always tried so damn hard to conceal, had evidently failed at concealing.

  
  


Those strong fingers and hands held his own, cradled in their palm; fingertips now resting on his mark, tracing it with a gentleness he couldn't ever recall feeling. Calloused fingers. No. These weren't Uhura's hands holding his own; they did not feel the same as earlier. He refused to open his eyes, barely able to hold back a gasp. They weren't the Vulcan's hands either. It was an uncomfortable thing for Vulcan's to touch other beings. He failed to hold back this time, choking on a gasp but he managed to continue to keep his eyes screwed shut, his head bowing.

He hadn't heard the footsteps approaching before, lost in his own misery. Didn't hear the two sets of footsteps now leaving, too caught up in his own spiraling thoughts, his disbelief and pain and buried hopes. The hand tracing his marks stopped and pulled away, leaving his wrists still held by the other, the thumb there now reaching around to rub at the pulse points which became more erratic by the second.

The hand that had pulled away now rested on his cheek, cupping the side of his face and dipping below his jaw and the thumb of that hand rubbed at it, rasping across the slight stubble that Leonard hadn't quite managed to get rid of before the so called celebration. A whisper of breath, an intake, than so softly he couldn't even believe he heard what he heard,

"Look at me Bones, please?" the voice washed over him as it always did, leaving him warm and wanted. _Foolish_ , _I've been so god damn foolish_. How could he have missed every sign he'd felt these past several years? How could he have forgotten those stories? Uhura was right, he'd had the forewarning, he'd had plenty of it. And if he'd known then what he knew now, he could have distanced himself from the golden haired man standing before him. Could have kept a friendship from forming, saved Jim the trouble of bonding with the mess that was Leonard H. McCoy.

Leonard shook his head and bit his lip. He couldn't speak. Today had been one hell of a roller coaster ride, especially these last 10 minutes and he felt out of control. He knew if he opened his mouth he'd break, and he knew from experience that a crying McCoy was not a pretty sight.

He almost cried anyway when Jim Kirks hands left his face, left his wrist, but then seconds later, he was being pulled against the man's body, his face getting tucked into Jim's neck. Leonard inhaled the scent that was so wholly Jim and shuddered. Jim had wrapped one arm around Leonard's waist and another rested at the back of his head, fingers curling into his dark hair.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Leonard caught a sob, muffled it in Jims neck, tried to hold back the wetness in his eyes but they spilled out the same way his heart had when he first met Jim, though he'd hardly realized it then. "God, you're not poison, Bones. You are the single best thing that has ever happened to me, you do _know_ that, right? I don't understand how you can believe such a thing! You have more compassion than anyone I know, though you try to hide it behind a gruff, sarcastic manner. You've saved more lives – directly! – than anyone I've ever heard of."

Leonard started to shake his head in denial, but even as he did so, he felt his own arms betray him as his hands clutched at Jim, fisting into the front of the ceremonial jacket, likely wrinkling it badly. But neither one noticed or cared about wrinkles at this time. Jim chuckled.

"Don't try to deny it. I've hacked your records. I know you wanted to stay anonymous, didn't want the hoopla, but I also know _you_ were the one who came up with a cure for that plague that happened five years back." The hand curled over Leonard's back started rubbing up and down soothingly as Jim continued to speak.

"Just as I also know what really happened with your father." If Leonard wasn't already frozen in place, _For god's sake, how long had Jim **been** there? Had he heard every god damn thing?_ "You didn't tell Spock or Nyota everything. Just the worst part, the part without context. Like you _wanted_ them to believe the worst of you. I don't think either of them would have blamed you for fulfilling your fathers' wish, for not wishing him to remain in pain for who knew how much longer. Just as I don't. It was that compassion of yours, Bones, which meant you couldn't bear to see him hurting, which wanted to give him whatever he wanted if it meant making things better for him. It wasn't your fault. It doesn't make what you did wrong, just sad."

"And think about it, think about the good our bond has already done. Think about the fact that you snuck me on board the Enterprise. What good reason did you have for that? And look how that turned out. How many people did we save because of that action?  Huh, Bones? And if we're meant to be together, think of the adventures we could go on, think about the good that we could do?" His voice was thick with feeling, and he swallowed. Leonard could feel the movement of his throat against his cheek.

"I've always wondered about the strength of this…this feeling I've had for you, almost from the moment I saw you. Like something suddenly clicked in place and the world just made _sense_ again. I felt less lost when I looked at you. You are not poison, bond or no bond. I've loved you for a long while but thought you didn't return my feelings. That, in fact, you couldn't. You think you're messed up Bones? What am I? I thought there was no way you could ever feel anything for me. A screw up. I don't listen to the rules. I always get you into trouble. I've slept around...a lot. I have my own tragedies in my past that have messed me up so bad…"

Leonard began to shake in Jim's arms, unable to hold himself back any longer. His hands loosened their grip on the Captains jacket and slid around to squeeze his soul mate back, trying to reassure him, let him know that he was heard, even though Leonard was currently past words.

"Don't leave me, Bones. I can't do this without you. I thought I could, before I met you. The crew and Spock, they're the backbones of this operation and the loss of any of them, especially Spock, would be felt greatly, but you're my heart and I can't lose you and keep going." The words were almost too soft to be heard, filled with feeling. Longing and trepidation, fear of abandonment. McCoy tightened his hold and managed to calm himself enough for a signature remark, the words muffled but strong and heartfelt against the captains neck.

"Who the hell said anything about leaving, Jim?" He felt the tension he hadn't even realized wasn't completely his own flow right out of the other man's body.

"Oh, oh thank god." He heard Jim breath right into his ear, the breath sending shivers down his spine.

They stood like that for long moments; the two of them wrapped together, arms gripping tight, heads tucked into the junctions of their necks. Unaware of the little honor guard standing at the other end of the hall, making sure they were left undisturbed. Each member of their bridge crew, along with Scotty and his strange friend, somehow having found their way together in that corridor.

No words had been spoken, just glances exchanged, knowing and relieved. Knowledge of the soul mates had not yet spread among the rest of them, yet still they knew, somehow - they all had known almost from the very start – how _special_ the bond between their Captain and their ship's Doctor had been, how strong. They knew it was only a matter of time before the two of them came to their senses and saw what everyone else saw.

It would only be later that Uhura passed on the stories, and new legends would start spreading about the incredible bond between these two men. Uhura was already composing a song or two in her head as tribute to them. She wasn't sure they would be ready to hear it for a while though.

And it would be in the privacy of their private quarters that Nyota would explain to her own mate, though they'd yet to make it official in the customs of either of their peoples, what the significance of the bond meant.

It meant they were destined for great things, and that the bond gave them a stability to endure great trials. Hell, they already had weathered one such storm, one that would have meant all hands lost if there had been no such Bond. It meant that two broken souls had found each other and started to mend. It meant they would always be stronger together than apart. It meant that if one of them died…the other wouldn't be long after.

Resolutely, the crew of the Enterprise, who had gone through a trial by fire in the capable hands of the youngest Captain in Starfleet and not found wanting, made sure that no one interrupted the first kiss between the blonde haired, boyish Captain, and the dark haired, sarcastic Doctor.

Lips brushing against lips, eyes closed as they both drowned in sensations of relief and love, warmth and hope. Leonard held his shaking hands around Jims face, sliding back and into his short hair. Electric but chaste, the kiss devolved from one to many before tapering off and their foreheads rested together, eyes opening, breath mingling.

For the first time that day, Leonard felt good, felt safe, a euphoric feeling that tried to bubble up and over his lips as he stared into Jim's boundless eyes full of love and boyish charm.

"So, Bones, what do we gotta do to make it official? How do we cement this Bond so I can make sure you never leave me out of a false sense of self sacrifice for the greater good? How can I find a way that you never doubt your own self worth again? To make sure you _know_ how loved you are, how deserving of it? How do we complete _us_?"

Leonard pulled back, his arms trailing down over Jim's shoulders and down his arms till the Doctor could grasp Jim's wrists. He worked at the sleeves, rolling them up and out of the way, Jim copying him quickly, easily. With both wrists bared on both men, Leonard reached out with his right hand to wrap around Jims left wrist.

"Now, right hand on left just like mine. We complete the circle." Leonard leaned in again, foreheads once again touching. His words, covered in that southern drawl Jim loved so much, were soft. Jim's eyes were glued to his, mesmerized by the look he saw within, the love McCoy so obviously felt. "You sure about this Jim? There's no going back." Jim swallowed but nodded.

"Yeah," He breathed. "What do we do next?"

"We keep holding on, don't you let go now. I'll say words and you repeat them, then we seal it with a kiss."

"And that really works?"

"Hell if I know the how's of it, but all the stories say it does. And as we can both attest to, the stories are already right about so much else."

"Right, right." Jim nodded. "So what am I saying?"

"Let me think, Jim. I'm a Doctor not a storyteller. It's been a long time since my gram told me these stories." He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. Even with the tear tracks staining his face, Jim Kirk thought he was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, both inside and out.

"The circle complete, our love unbound. Our souls to meet, two makes one. Stronger together, let us never part. Love to uphold us, keep us in good stead. Love to help us, keep us on our feet. Love to support, through the times of grief. Two makes one, our souls have met. Uncage our hearts, let our love flow deep. With this kiss, our Bond completes."  
  
Jim echoed at every break in the Doctors' words, so that they finished at nearly the same moment, electricity crackling around their tingling fingertips and burning wrists, prompting them to surge forward in a kiss that was, this time, in no way chaste. Lips and tongues met and caressed the other, the electricity winding up their arms to flow out and around the rest of them, encasing them in sensation that no one else could see if they had happened to turn around at that moment.

The burning on their wrists intensified, but not in an unpleasant way. They ended the kiss as the electricity faded and the burning became a soothing sensation. Looking down at their wrists, the marks were no longer fading in and out as they had both long since gotten used to. Now strong and vibrant and there to stay. It was strange and comforting at the same time. They looked up at each other again and broke into smiles and muffled laughter before, with a groan, their lips met again, each of them sliding their arms back up to wrap around shoulders and waists, to pull their bodies closer against each other.

Finally, Leonard gained enough self control to pull back, though Jim protested and he chased the lips suddenly being denied him.

"As much as I'm lovin' this sudden change of events," he smirked wryly, "Unlike you, I'm not an exhibitionist. If this goes any further tonight, it will not be happening a mere hundred feet away from officials, other dignitaries and, worst of all, your crew." Leonard nodded his head in the direction of the corridor and Jim turned around to look.  He groaned.

"Thanks for that moment of privacy." He called out, answered only by laughter as he muttered so that only Bones heard, "I swear, I've raised a bridge crew full of peeping toms."

"My name, as you well know, is not Tom." Well, Bones and Spock with those pointy Vulcan ears primed to catch pretty much everything. Kirk groaned again and dropped his head to McCoy's shoulder as the Doctors slightly taller frame shook with laughter, even as they both heard Nyota quietly explain to her boyfriend that it was a phrase and what it had meant.

"You're right, Bones. Let's get the hell outta here." With a wicked grin, an upward quirk to his lips that bespoke of mischief, he pulled a communicator out of his uniform pocket and flipped it open. Before Leonard could so much as open his mouth in protest, Kirk had requested an 'emergency transport' back to his quarters for two to deal with a 'personal issue'. _And no, no need to worry, he had his personal physician with him. Probably just food poisoning from the party._

As the transporter beam enveloped the two intertwined men, the bridge crew laughed when they heard the Doctors usual pessimistic, sarcastic commentary about it fading in and out till his voice tapered off before completely disappearing, the whining sounds of the transporter quickly following suit.

"God dammit Jim! What the hell was wrong with walkin'? Now _we're_ gonna die, and all because _you_ wanna get to fucking five minutes faster…Haven't you ever heard of a little somethin' I like to call restraint? Or pat-"

The crew dispersed with smiles and chuckles. Happy at last that the two of them had gotten their heads out of their asses. A few grumbled as they realized they now owed Nyota a few favors.  Chekov eyed her suspiciously; certain that she had had a part in speeding things up somehow. He'd been so sure nothing would have developed until they were at least a few months out on their five year mission.

Scotty good naturedly clapped her on the shoulder, much to the First Officers disapproval, and promised to deliver his special brew later that night. Keenser whined at the loss. Spock, of course, was above making bets about _anyone's_ love life. He was still navigating his own and wouldn't presume to even know enough about it to make predictions of that nature, even if he had felt he had the right. Which he didn't.

Sulu just high fived Uhura on his way past, grabbing a protesting Chekov's arm and steering him back towards the party, all of the others, except for the other couple, following suit.

"Did you want to return to the party, Spock?" Nyota asked slyly.

"I believe we have adequately done our duty with our appearance tonight. I think we will not be missed should we leave early."

"That's what I hoped to hear. Do _you_ happen to have a transporter at the ready, my love?"

"My apologies. I do not. And I think that it would look suspicious if we tried to use the transporter in the same unauthorized manner as the Captain and the Doctor just did."

"Never mind Spock...the walk won't kill us." Nyota was amused. He looked at her quizzically as they started to do just that. As they approached the large double doors of the building, Spock broke the silence.

"I do not mean to be rude but I must admit that several things about this bond are puzzling me. I do not understand how such a thing even exists. I suppose that the bond itself could simply be a biological reaction caused by compatible pheromones in close proximity to a potential...though not the only...match. However, the fact that this reaction, by your own word of mouth evidence, as well as the Doctor and the Captains own experiences, could occur at all when they weren't even in the same geographical location makes such a thing highly unlikely." She hummed encouragingly, her eyes twinkling as she listened.

"Thus I fail to understand how this works despite the evidence before my own eyes that it, in fact, does. How do the marks appear? If it is not biological, then are the marks caused by some sentience somewhere? They seem to hold a somewhat predictive nature. They predict that there is a being out there that you have not yet met that is your other half and then it proceeds to instruct you how to find them." Spock was on a roll now as the two of them strolled down the steps of the building.

"I also do not understand how random markings not only appear on the skin, but that they do so in a particular pattern not just once, but twice. There are no two things exactly alike in nature, as your kind long ago discovered with snowflakes. Even identical twins have variation within their genetic codes, whether or not it can be seen by the naked eye makes no difference, they are still fundamentally different at their cores." The two of them stepped fluidly down the sidewalk, the moon shining down upon them, though the lights of the city obscured the sight of the stars. That wasn't a problem. In a few weeks time they'd all be back in space and they would see as many stars as they wanted and more besides.

"And that brings me to something else that I do not understand. How, exactly, does this bond take hold? It seems to me that one silly little rhyme should hold no sway over something like this. Though, if we were to accept the previously unworkable theory of pheromones, I suppose one could expect that the kiss at the end would trigger a chain reaction within the body, and that the rest is just a formality to place oneself in the right frame of mind."

His voice trailed down behind them as they continued to walk, Nyota with an amused and indulgent smile upon her lips. He continued to theorize and work at the problem like a dog with a bone.

"I suppose, then, that it would not be too farfetched to come to the conclusion that it is indeed a biological event if one takes into account the small percentage of humanity who have varying levels of some psychic ability. It is rare, almost as rare as the bond. But then I suppose it must also be rare for two people inside a very small subset to be particularly well matched with each other."

A hand dropped on to his shoulder and slid down to grasp at his fingers. He paused at the overly intimate gesture when they were in public, though no one appeared to be around them right now.  She raised a finger to his lips and his brow rose up, increasing the look of befuddlement upon his face. "Shush…you're taking the magic out of it." She smiled at him gently.

"Of course." He said solemnly. They strolled back to their shared quarters in a comfortable silence, and thanking silently the fact that those quarters were not too close to the Captains. Nyota paused, her step faltering, causing Spock to stop and turn to face her in concern.

"Nyota, are you ill?"

"Oh," She gasped, her eyes wide in realization. "It just occurred to me, when we return to the ship, to wonder how thick the walls between our respective quarters are."

"Why would you be concerned about –" He paused too. "That is an excellent question. The Captain, to me, seems an overly boisterous and loud man. I shall inquire with Montgomery Scott in the morning."

"I think that would be best." She said with a relieved smile as the two of them started walking again.

"Indeed."

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I totally made up the Polexyian Pox, :D  
> And yes, Karl Urban is 1 whole inch taller than Chris Pine.
> 
> Also I think I'm a little in love with Karl though my husband argues that he was the wrong choice (looks wise) to replace DeForest. Says he's not 'gaunt enough' in the face. that he's too thick to be McCoy. I'm like, what are you even LOOKING at? One of these days, I'm gonna do a side by side portrait of the two of them and shove it in his face. I've always loved McCoy and I thought Karl did a great job!
> 
> crap. i think there was something else i wanted to put here and now i forgot. EEEP!


End file.
